Jaywalkers!

I've always loved things that go on feet. When I was two and my aunt took me to garage sales, I begged for the women's pumps, the rainboots. When I was four and shopping with my mother, I made a beeline for the shoe department. When I was ten, I began a fuzzy slipper collection - the bigger, flashier, and more outrageous, the better. The pair with fiber optic lights didn't go over too well when I wore them around at night after everybody was in bed.

When I was twelve I got into slipper socks. The kind you pay way too much for, perfect for skating on linoleum floors, making your feet look two sizes larger than they really are. If somebody asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I answered without hesitation. Fuzzy slippers or socks. Christmas? Fuzzy socks or yarn.

Funny that it would take so long for my two enduring interests to merge. At first, the very thought of knitting socks made me grimace. Tiny gauge. Some very intricate patterns. Small yarn. Smaaaaaall needles. I've always been an instant-gratification kind of gal, tending toward larger-gauge projects that I could work up in a week or less. People seem to have the misconception that knitters are patient people. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "I'm just not patient enough to do that." My immediate thought: I'm not patient enough just to SIT THERE, idle. It's why for so long I strived for speed, not quality of work.

Besides all that, the thought of devoting hours of my life to a project, carefully following a delicate pattern, painfully picking up dropped stitches, then stepping on it, seemed absurd.

We all learn. Behold the Jaywalker! It's the natural culmination of years of fascination with footwear and yarn. It's an expression of art. It's a venture into the unknown.

I cast on for the first Jaywalker about two and a half weeks ago with Knit Picks Felici. I just finished the first sock this evening and began the ribbing for the second. I can't say that it's gone terribly slow - actually, they've worked up pretty fast considering the gauge and the fact that I've barely devoted any time at all to knit on them... I know I'm not the only one who has more than one project going at a time. Multiple projects, even. --squints eyes-- I know you're out there.

I love these socks. I think they're actually going to fit me, too. Almost as though they were made specifically for my foot. The fact that they are going to fit me is the problem. They weren't supposed to fit me. They were intended for a friend. Said friend has bigger feet than mine. These Jaywalkers aren't going to fit her, so I'm being forced to keep them and knit her another pair. Which means going through the whole process again. Searching tirelessly for the perfect pattern. Scouring the Internet for the perfect yarn. Knitting them. Can you tell I'm not exactly heartbroken over this recent turn of events?

ETA: My first finished Jaywalker is actually a little small for me. So much for a perfect fit, but I can still wear it.